


Blue Christmas

by cablesscutie



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Idiots in Love, a little bit of pre-relationship angst, because they are idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2050197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablesscutie/pseuds/cablesscutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot about Percy and Annabeth during their rough patch between BoTL and TLO in which there's a fight, a present, and a phone call.  </p><p>or</p><p>Percy and Annabeth can't really hate each other as much as they want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Christmas

She couldn’t even remember what had started their fight, but she knew what had turned it into a screaming match. She’d recognized Rachel’s voice in the background relaying a message from his mother and Annabeth had seen red. Every bit of frustration she’d been harboring, everything that was wrong with her life suddenly seemed to be his fault: the way she felt like a guest in her own house, constantly tidying up behind herself so that it hardly seemed that she lived there at all; the fact that Thalia was too busy for her now and hadn’t IM’d in months; her confusion over Luke and his betrayal; the mean girls that made fun of her scars in the locker room; and, of course, Percy’s seemingly imminent demise. If she was being honest, Percy hanging out with another girl was pretty far down on her list of concerns, but at the time, it had seemed like the largest injustice of them all.

Percy was more patient with her than with most people, but one of his pet peeves was being yelled at for things he didn’t do, and it hadn’t been long before he snapped back at her.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Since when do you care about anything that I do? It’s not like I’m blowing you off to hang out with Rachel; you’re on the other side of the country! And in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m going through a lot too! You don’t think it’s hard for me to be away from you and Grover all the time?”

She hadn’t known what to say. Percy had never sounded so hurt before but she’d been smarting from his initial outburst. Apart from a few slip-ups when they were in mortal danger, Percy didn’t swear, and though she knew he hadn’t really meant it that way, he had never suggested that there was something inherently broken about her. Annabeth’s eyes burned and a lump had risen in her throat. She’d wanted to take it all back but her pride made her hesitate just a beat too long.

“You know what?” He hadn’t waited for a response before continuing, “I don’t have time for this,” and hanging up on her.

As she’d sat at her desk chair, listening to the dial tone, she’d felt anxiety stir in the pit of her stomach, wondering whether he’d meant he didn’t have time today or anymore.

A month went by without a word from him, and Annabeth found herself decidedly out of the Christmas spirit. She’d bought him a Christmas present (A guide to surviving Y2K, stumbled upon in the back of her favorite used book store, which seemed just the right combination of morbid and stupid to make him laugh), but kept the receipt. In her fifteen years, she’d been bailed on more than enough to learn the value of practicality.

When Mathew and Bobby woke the whole house at five on Christmas morning, she groaned into her pillow. She had every intention of laying back down and catching a few more hours of sleep until the twins threw off her covers and started tugging at the sleeves of her pajamas. The boys tore into the mound of boxes, shredding paper, ripping bows, and squealing in delight when they saw that Santa had left something they’d really wanted. There were noticeably fewer boxes for Annabeth, but her father smiled apologetically and told her,

“We tried our best, but I’m afraid it was slim pickings. I figured you’d rather get less than have to pretend you liked what the salespeople suggested,” and the fact that he wanted to do more felt like a gift all of its own.

After the wads of tape and paper had been shoved into a trash bag and everyone but Annabeth filed into the kitchen for breakfast, Annabeth’s stepmother pulled a box with a UPS label and shiny blue snowflake paper from the hall closet. She placed it carefully on the coffee table in front of Annabeth, telling her,

“I thought you might like to open this one by yourself,” and flicking her eyes between the girl and the return address, eyebrows raised somewhat questioningly. Annabeth murmured her thanks and promised to join everyone soon.

Annabeth’s chest tightened as she carefully unwrapped the first correspondence she’d received from Percy in weeks. It was just like him to send her a Christmas present after she’d been such a jerk to him. It was coffee; several bags of Dunkin’ Donuts’ Whole Bean Original Blend resting on a bed of (obviously blue) tinsel.

She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry with how sweet it was. Shortly after she moved to San Francisco, she’d complained to Percy that she couldn’t get her daily dose of Dunkin’s in California. He’d let her go on for nearly twenty minutes about how Starbucks’ employees looked at her derisively when she asked plainly for coffee with cream and sugar. The fact that his ADHD brain had paid attention to this completely inane rant sent a wave of warmth through her, as if Percy had mailed himself to her doorstep and given her a hug.

But the best part was the card that she found shoved to the side of the box. The cover showed a picture of Elvis in a Santa suit, and when she opened it, “Blue Christmas” filled the living room. Scrawled in Percy’s sloppy handwriting was:  
Merry Christmas, Annabeth!  
Miss you.  
Love,  
Percy (and Sally and Paul) I guess…  
P.S. Home phone is busted (long story). Mom’s cell is …

The numbers were written neater than she’d ever seen him manage, and she could almost feel the effort he’d put into making sure the numbers were in the right order and his 2’s didn’t look like 3’s. She could also feel the tiny part of her that was a normal fifteen year-old obsessing that he’d signed the card “Love” rather than “Happy Holidays” or “Your Friend”, but she studiously ignored it. Annabeth did, however, allow herself to read it over again approximately every twenty minutes for the next twelve hours.

Once extended family had come and gone, and the boys were sent to bed, Annabeth sat up on the couch, the card from Percy in one hand, and the house phone in the other, trying to find the strength to call him. She wondered what was wrong with her that let her hold up the sky, face Polyphemus, and walk the Labyrinth, yet left her paralyzed with fear at the thought of calling her best friend.

She spent the better part of an hour getting up the nerve, and when he answered, voice half panicked, half still-asleep, she realized that it was past eleven in California.

“Annabeth? Wha’s goin on?” Percy slurred into the phone. She winced.

“I-I’m fine. I got your present. Just figured I’d call and thank you.” There was a pause, and she wondered if he’d gone back to bed. Then, “At 2:30 in the morning?”

“Oh…” She felt her cheeks go hot with embarrassment and she was suddenly grateful that he wasn’t there to see her. “It’s earlier in California.”

“Right,” there was a rustling on his end of the line and she pictured him sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. “Time zones. You had me worried for a minute there. I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

“You gave me the number. Didn’t you expect me to use it?”

“Maybe…But I think I gave up a little. I thought I blew it.”

Annabeth tried to slow her heartbeat; tried to make herself say a quick thank-you and hang up, because she was sure he’d never be saying any of this if there wasn’t at least a 50% chance he thought it was a dream. But she figured this was the only way either of them was going to be close to honest with the other, so she steeled herself and asked,

“Then why did you tell me to call if you didn’t mean it?”

“I meant every word I wrote.” She could feel the double-meaning the statement held. His voice was still rough with sleep; deeper than she remembered, almost husky. She considered ignoring what she knew he was getting at and wishing him a Merry Christmas too, but that would be taking the easy way out and Annabeth never took the easy way out. Plus, he had given her this, trusted her with the truth. The least she could do was give him hers.

“I love you too,” she said softly. Percy’s breath hitched on the other end of the line, but when he let it out, it was a sigh of relief. “Of course I do,” she went on. “You think I’d keep saving your sorry butt if I didn’t?” He huffed out a laugh and muttered,

“Guess not…I really do miss you.”

“I was thinking about going to camp for February break.”

“Oh, you’re coming. No thinking allowed. And you have to have dinner here at least once, or my mom will be deeply offended.”

“The flight’s as good as booked.”

“Hmm,” was his response. Annabeth could feel him slipping away back into his sheets and figured that if she didn’t end this soon, he’d fall asleep still on the line.

“I’m gonna let you go, you sound like you’re about to pass out.”

“No, I’m fine,” he insisted.

“It’s like, three a.m. there. Go back to bed.”

“You’ll call for New Years’?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. G’night, Wise Girl.”

“Goodnight, Seaweed Brain,” she laughed. Annabeth could still hear his breath echoing across the line as she hung up.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is much appreciated! If you have any thoughts you would like to share (any at all, seriously) just post a comment- I'd love to hear from you. Or, you can come join me on tumblr as fire-lord-mai!


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